


How the Stars Say "I Love You"

by Maya_Koppori



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Cute things, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, laurent is in love and he's allowed to be romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-27 01:20:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12070782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maya_Koppori/pseuds/Maya_Koppori
Summary: "It makes me kind of sad that just because Laurent is guarded and emotionally reserved people think Damen is always the one to make romantic or intimate or loving overtures"youaretrue and watchingtheroad on tumblr, you are completely 1000% right and also the reason this exists. Just a few times Laurent has been sneakily romantic.





	How the Stars Say "I Love You"

[The Original Post that inspired this work](https://youaretrue.tumblr.com/post/163383099784/unpopular-opinion-maybe-butit-makes-me-kind-of) made me very emotional okay?

* * *

“Damen,” Laurent said patiently. “If you are not out of bed in the next five seconds, I’m going to give  _ you  _ all of the paperwork and  _ I  _ can go on the hunting trip.”

Damen groaned and rolled until he found the edge of the bed, the sheets tangling around his legs and waist. He pried his eyes open and then screwed them closed in instant regret at the stinging pain behind his skull. “How is it that  _ I  _ got drunk enough to make plans with Makedon and  _ you _ didn’t?”

“ _ I  _ learned from my mistakes. Griva is best consumed in moderation and in private.” Laurent didn’t look up from his book but nudged Damen with his foot until the other man toppled bonelessly to the floor. “You’re due in the courtyard in half an hour. And don’t take the good spear- your aim is terrible when you’re hungover and I don’t want it broken against a tree.”

Damen grumbled but pulled himself to his feet, blindly feeling his way from the bedchamber and toward his closet. He wasn’t looking forward to getting dressed in his uncomfortable riding clothes, or anything else he had to do for the rest of the day. Makedon would be loud and perfectly stable, and Damen was going to have to keep up in his sandals.

He opened the closet door and blinked, thinking for a moment that he’d opened the wrong one. “Laurent, are these your riding boots?” He couldn’t imagine that Laurent would put them back in the wrong place- he loved those boots, and took wonderful care of them.

There was a pause, and then Laurent turned another page in his book. “No, they aren’t. They’re far too large. Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”

Damen picked up the boots, overcome by the smell of new leather, and looked at where Laurent sat with his back against the headboard of their bed, still looking resolutely at his book.

“I suppose I should,” Damen chuckled. Laurent made a crude gesture at him, but he was smiling.

* * *

It was the coldest day of Vaskian winter, and if Damen wasn’t so in love he might actually be cross with Laurent at that moment. He was shivering on the ground bundled in blankets and furs, while Laurent let himself be entertained by some of their Vaskian hosts over some good liquor. He wasn’t even wearing a coat!

One of the Vaskian delegates whispered something into Laurent’s ear and the blond’s eyes flickered briefly to Damen before he answered, “No, I’m sure he’s fine. King Damianos tends to run very... hot.”

The Vaskian- Damen would remember her name later, when his brain thawed- raised her eyebrows but said nothing more on the matter.

Laurent, however, did. He turned to Damen and beckoned for him to remove his blue hands from the folds of the coat he wore. “Here, hold my drink for me. I need to start signing these trade agreements.”

Damen cursed internally but reached for the ceramic cup, and immediately had to bite back a groan as the heat from the drink soaked into his fingers. Laurent hadn’t touched it at all, the hot mixture of tea and alcohol still at the brim and retaining its heat. 

He looked at Laurent curiously, but his husband was deep in conversation over a piece of parchment. Anyone else might have thought the pinkness of his ears was from the cold. Damen took a small sip of the drink to hide his smile.

* * *

Damen awoke gasping, his breath short and his heart still half believing it had been pierced by a blade. He felt Laurent stir beside him, but the blond didn't wake. 

Rolling into his side, Damen tried to match his breathing to the rise and fall of Laurent’s chest. The moonlight spilled over him in dappled patches, moving softly with the sway of the branches outside of their balcony window. 

There were still nights when his soul returned to Kingsmeet, to the moment he thought he was going to lose Laurent forever. Laurent hadn’t known then that Damen truly loved him, even though he himself had loved Damen. His love had saved Damen that day, but Damen hadn’t wanted it to. He’d rather be executed on the spot than see Laurent surrender himself to the monster who wanted to kill them both.

He’d wished it, that day at Kingsmeet. He’d wished the guard holding him would stab him through the chest and take away the only thing holding Laurent captive, so he would run and save himself. But Jord had been right- Laurent had planned for everything. He wouldn’t have come back alone.

Damen was so lost in thought that it was some time before he realized that Laurent’s breathing had shallowed, and that there were two twin sparks of light staring at him in the darkness. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Your mind is shouting tonight,” Laurent whispered. “What troubles you?”

No one else got to see Laurent like this, his voice soft with sleep and his body relaxed and warm. Damen coveted this Laurent, and cherished him more than his life.

“Nothing to worry about,” he replied. “Nightmares.”

Laurent scoffed. “Those don’t belong in the same sentence. Come here.”

Damen obeyed, letting Laurent pull him closer. He sidled up on the bed and guided Damen’s head to his chest. Damen went willingly and hummed when Laurent started methodically dragging his fingers through Damen’s hair. The thrumming of Laurent’s heart under his ear picked up, strong and steady. Alive.

“Sleep,” Laurent whispered. “I’ve got you.”

As if there was ever a time when he didn’t. Damen slept, and didn’t dream again.

* * *

The thing about weddings was that they went on forever. Damen was unthinkably happy for Jord and Nikandros, but he did wish Nik didn’t have to stop between each sentence of his vows to control his sobbing.

“He’s a blubbering little foal, isn’t he?” Laurent noted at Damen’s side, and Damen was inclined to agree. He nodded, not wanting to speak. He might be able to get away with it, since they were overseeing the ceremony from a distance and no one would hear him, but honestly he didn’t want to risk disrupting anything and drawing the ceremony out further.

Even Jord, straight backed in his dress uniform, looked a little bemused by the man who- eventually- would be his husband. He took pity on him and took Nikandros’ hands in his own, whispering steadying words. It was a breach of protocol, but no one dared say anything. Besides, the protocol for the new kingdom’s wedding ceremonies was still fluid. Damen made a mental note to go over that with Laurent when they left.

At last, the ceremony ended and Nikandros and Jord were lawfully wedded. The couple would be expected to mingle with their guests for some time, accepting congratulations and well wishes, and then they would depart and the rest of the wedding party would revel well into the night. That was one Akielon practice that Damen had been glad to keep.

For most weddings there was not a precedent for having monarchs in attendance, but for this one in particular they had arranged for Damen and Laurent to be the first to greet their friends after the vows. Laurent had been scathing at the rehearsal, predicting accurately that Nikandros would become emotional and that he would make sure to bring a handkerchief for him. 

Amazingly, he really had. As Damen and Laurent approached, arm in arm, Laurent produced two folded squares of silk from his pocket and handed one to each of the newlyweds. “They’re a matching set,” he said casually. “You’ll find the other part of your gift when we get to Isthima.”

“Isthima?” Jord, Nikandros, and Damen asked in unison, and then looked to each other in confusion. Damen gripped Laurent’s hand questioningly. 

Laurent rolled his eyes. “Yes, Isthima. I don’t care if you don’t want a honeymoon, Jord. You’re getting one. And Damen and I will make sure you do as I say.”

Nikandros narrowed his eyes. To Damen, it looked like he was wondering how much of a scene he was allowed to make, and how much distaste he could voice without it being considered a public offense. “You’ll be joining us on our honeymoon then, Exalted?” The prospect had him looking faintly ill.

“In a way. The island is quite large, after all. If you’d like, we won’t even have to see each other until the week is up.”

“A whole week?” Jord beamed at them both. “Thank you, Highnesses. We’re incredibly honored. Aren't we, husband?”

Nikandros finally met Laurent’s eyes, and as Damen watched a smile bloomed between them. “Of course. Thank you, Damen… and Laurent.”

Damen caught the pleased look in Laurent’s eyes. It said more than his words did, and Damen understood. There were subtle ways that Laurent showed his love, and those who received it often didn't know how lucky they were. It was like starlight; beautiful to behold and constantly there, even in the silent light of day.


End file.
